


How it Could Have Happened

by clairedearings



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5445593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairedearings/pseuds/clairedearings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time he saw her she walked straight through a hologram of a dilophosaurus without so much as flinching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure what this is, but I'm a huge supporter of the idea that Claire and Owen would have come together even if the I-Rex incident never happened.

The first time she saw him the expanse of golden, sweat-glistened skin was a fast approaching mirage. It’s not often that reality releases Claire Dearing from its death grip. A childhood shrouded in her sister’s shadow had taught her there was never a moment to be wasted. Each passing second was an opportunity to improve, excel, impress, and yet her accomplishments never seemed to be enough in her parents eyes. Her mother always had some profound life lesson for all of Claire’s pseudo shortcomings. So Claire pushed herself harder, made sacrifices in order to be the best, and on the rare occasions those sacrifices caught up to her and threatened to corrode her foolproof armor, she fought back ruthlessly with a few glasses of wine and a bubble bath.

But, she was a human after all, and not altogether perfect. One can only take so many drab expense reports or pushy investors or unoriginal wandering hands connected to greasy men who see only her breasts. After the numbers had all run together and the questions had all been answered and the unwanted touches had all been shaken off, Claire found herself speeding down one of Isla Nublar’s less traveled back roads on her lunch break. She didn’t usually leave the office during this time, opting instead to munch on left over room service while responding to e-mails. Today, however, she had an uncharacteristic itch simply to _get out_ , so that’s what she did.

A few moments pass before she realizes she hasn’t been paying attention to the road in front of her. Her mind is blissfully unoccupied for once, and she reluctantly allows herself to be tugged back to reality one pothole at a time. She’s in the process of brushing an errant strand of hair from her right eye when he appears before her, all tanned skin and tight muscles. She thinks her mind is playing tricks on her. Nobody uses this road, let alone knows about it, besides island staff. She’s not generally one to fantasize, but she’d be lying if she said this particular presentation of anatomy is unappealing. His legs are propelling him forward with an easy confidence they’ve probably always possessed and oh wouldn’t it be nice to be trapped between that broad chest and a wall…

There’s 300 feet between them when her car hits a large branch she failed to notice had found it’s way onto the left side of the road. The man startles, falters, has just enough time to narrowly escape being run over… and he is not a mirage at all. Claire risks a glance in her rearview mirror just in time to see his look of utter aggravation.

“Okay so, just… forget that ever happened,” she tells herself aloud while mentally berating herself for being so distracted.

—

The first time he saw her she walked straight through a hologram of a dilophosaurus without so much as flinching. Now, I know what you’re thinking… a hologram, so what?! But we’re talking about an irritated, neck frill flaring, all sorts of terrifying dilophosaurus she had no way of knowing would materialize 5 feet in front of her. She just kept right on striding across the room demanding details from whatever poor subordinate was on the other end of her cellphone. Owen added it to his mental list of badass things he’d seen since moving to Isla Nublar. There was just something to be said about this woman’s ability to ignore everything in her immediate environment besides the information she deemed absolutely necessary, and oh how he wished she’d focus all that attention on him.

Owen’s a smart guy… well, most of the time. He makes his living interpreting and predicting behavior, so if he’s a bit cocky about his ability to read people it’s not completely unfounded. Upon arriving at the innovation center it took him a mere 20 seconds to survey the room and determine there was not an interesting person in sight. He was unimpressed by the woman in her 40’s who was self conscious about the fact she ran out of time to touch up her roots before leaving for this vacation and the teenager who was desperately trying to cover up the fact he was enjoying himself. The only highlight was a man who seemed to be regretting the chili dog he bought from the stand outside. Owen let out a chuckle when he saw that guy. So, when her lithe body began beelining across his field of vision he couldn’t help but recognize her complexity amongst the sea of dull people.

He knows immediately that she works here, and that she probably makes at least three times his salary. Her pristine corporate attire and purposeful strides leave little to the imagination on that account. Her presence is… demanding. She’s good at what she does and she knows it, but what he suspects other people mistake for coldness he sees as self preservation. There is no room for this woman to be anything less than professional at all times. He can tell she’s well aware of the consequences of one misstep. But, he can also see something else lurking beneath her tough exterior, something he can’t quite put his finger on. He thinks there’s probably a person there who she hasn’t allowed herself to be for some time. He’s fairly confident this woman’s daily routine hasn’t been interrupted for that same amount of time. He’s about to change that.

Owen’s a smart guy, yet he’s following her as if her red hair is a beacon. The urge to speak with her consumes him and he’s not sure he could stop himself if he tried. His goal is simple: catch her off guard, give her something to think about when she’s stuck in her next meeting. He’s thinking of a cheesy pick up line about red heads when she stops short in front of the steps that lead to the lab. He fails to completely stop in time and gently bumps into her. He’s already stepping back as she haughtily turns around, eyes temporarily leaving the screen of her phone. The pick up line dies in his throat because her lips are pursed and her eyes are burning and she is _magnificent_. Something flickers across her face, he thinks it might be recognition, and she softens slightly. The awestruck look is still plastered on his face as he mumbles his apologies. He’s almost positive the left corner of her mouth turns up slightly before she turns on her heel and ascends the stairs. She doesn’t look back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But she is human. She is human in the way that she aches, in the way her chest occasionally clenches and unclenches painfully, wringing each precious drop of blood from her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging for too long. This is still leading up to their "disaster" date.

The first time someone called her a bitch it rippled through her neural pathways like a 2.5 earthquake, stunning her into silence. Because surely she didn’t deserve to be called that, did she? She hadn’t done or said anything that her male peers hadn’t previously done or said. When she delegated tasks she was authoritative, not unkind. When leering men approached her after business meetings to ask her out she was professional, not cruel. Unfortunately, the sad truth of existence is that you are what other people perceive you to be. They saw a woman who rarely dated and who kept her chin just a bit too high and who refused to slink from bed to bed to reach the top. That apparently made her a cold-hearted, unfeeling bitch. It didn’t matter that she always inquired about how the Starbucks barista’s day was going or that she took her elderly neighbor grocery shopping every Sunday or that she notoriously gave too much of herself in past relationships because she didn’t know how to be any other way. Doing anything halfway was not part of her nature. So, it was better to be closed off than to be hurt, right?

As Claire climbed the corporate ladder at various companies she came to terms with the fact her colleagues had never seen her as human. It was too difficult to be the boss and the friend, and her remedy, as usual, was to throw herself even more into her work, to spend even less time socializing in and out of the office. Of course, this did nothing to abate the near constant pestering from her sister and mother about settling down and starting a family. They didn’t seem to understand that maybe Claire had no interest in settling down at that point in her life. Her plan of finding a husband in the future seemed plausible, but that was before she realized just how hard old habits die. Men didn’t want to marry an overly organized workaholic who was more successful than them and who wouldn’t be pushed around.

Sometimes she wished she could change herself, make herself… _less_. Less strict, less independent, less organized. These characteristics led others to believe she was incapable of being warm and loving. That she didn’t need anyone else. That she could survive without any sort of companionship. But it was wrong of anyone to assume she didn’t want or need those things.

Because Claire Dearing _is_ human. She is human in the way that she aches, in the way her chest occasionally clenches and unclenches painfully, wringing each precious drop of blood from her heart. Desperate to be understood, to be seen. She wants to love and be loved just as much as the next person, she just has no idea how to go about it anymore. But the love is there inside her, threatening to overtake her at any moment. She’s envious of people who can express theirs so easily. she’s simply not as well practiced.

Now, after years of mastering the successful businesswoman persona, the way the insult slips freely from the InGen employee’s lips is no longer shocking to her. It always happens this way. They think she is just out of earshot and throw the word back at her over their shoulder. _Bitch_. She practically expects it. What she doesn’t expect, however, is for the comment to receive any acknowledgement besides the unsubtle snickering of the majority of nearby males. The group is passing through the threshold of her office to the waiting area when another man bolts out of his chair to approach them.

“You’re speaking about the park operations manager, show some respect,” he spits in the InGen employee’s face, and Claire recognizes him as the raptor trainer… Owen Grady.

The others huff and continue out of the waiting area while Owen stays rooted in his place. She can see him through the doorway of her office. He’s turning to peer at her, anger still visible in the lines of his face. When their eyes meet his expression changes to one of understanding. She marvels at his ability to always be so _open_.

Maybe this man feels everything as intensely as she does. Maybe his downfall is he always wears his heart on his sleeve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure I want to keep changing tenses like this. I wanted it to be flashback/memory/whatever and then how it relates to the present, but I don't know if that's clear. I might experiment in the next chapters.


End file.
